A Sort of Homecoming
by Aerika S
Summary: You can go home again, but sometimes you don’t want to. Returning to his hometown to attend his little sister’s wedding causes Alucier to reflect on his family, friends and future. Side story to my Eries trilogy.
1. I

A Sort of Homecoming

I: The Road Home

There were those that savored the transition from bustling city to bucolic farmland. They reveled in the open fields, the vast spaces filled with nothing but what nature put there. The crispness of the air invigorated them. The quiet of rustling grasses made them thoughtful. They sight of animals grazing peacefully filled them with the wonder of life.

Then there were the ones who took a single step off of pavement and instantly began to itch and sneeze from the weeds. The quiet annoyed them, weighed on them until every little sound from the chirp of a cricket to the fall of a leaf from a tree became louder than the noise of the busiest street. Any animals they were unfortunate enough to cross paths with made the remains of last night's steak dinner rumble uneasily in their stomachs.

Dashir Revius fell squarely into the anti-farm campaign and, though he was making a great show of spouting homegrown clichés like 'smell that fresh air' and 'you can see forever out here', Alucier Maerzen was ready to join up too. He hadn't been to his hometown of Dunhaven for years. On other visits home, he would feel pangs of nostalgia as his childhood home came into view at the end of the road. Instead, as the carriage rumbled closer, he couldn't help but ponder how he had survived to adulthood living so far away from civilization.

The clichés were supposed to antagonize his traveling companion, but they were getting on Alucier's nerves enough that he stopped bothering with them. The one about seeing forever was proving to be infuriatingly ironic. Dunhaven had become a mecca of farming by virtue of having a warm climate year round. Unfortunately, that meant it also had the vice of experiencing some ridiculously hot days during the summer. Even this late in the season, the heat was well above what Alucier had become accustomed to while living in Palas. Ample sweat from his brow, in combination with the preternatural humidity, was causing his glasses to fog up. No matter how many times he wiped the lenses with the cravat of his Caeli uniform, his ancestral home loomed in the distance as a giant white blur amongst an endless green blur.

"Do you think your family would mind if I slept in the ice house while we're here?" Revius, also not a fan of the current temperature, asked. He had already taken off the cravat and gloves of his Caeli uniform and loosened the collar of his shirt. It was only the modicum of decency left over from his childhood as the son of a high-class, high-profile jeweler that was keeping him from shedding the blue overskirt and jumpsuit. "I think I'm melting out here," he added. He ran a hand through his short black hair and it came out coated in sweat, proof of his theory.

"I don't think they'll mind it anymore than they would mind a stranger inviting himself to a family wedding because he's a huge coward who needed to get out of town to avoid an angry girlfriend," Alucier shot back. He had come up with the ice house idea himself not long after their leviship had alit upon the Dunhaven dockyard and he had seen the waves of heat rising up from the ground. Knowing that the dockyard was on a higher elevation, closer to the ocean and therefore, generally much cooler than the town itself, he wasn't about to give it up.

"That's girlfriends, plural. That's why they're mad at me, remember?"

"Which strikes me as a bit like getting angry at a dog for eating scraps off another person's plate. Dumb animals can't fight their natures."

"Woof," Revius barked. "But maybe I could use that argument with them. You know, except for the dumb part."

"But that's the most accurate part."

"You wound me, friend," Revius said with much drama and indignant finger waving. "Both with your insult and your opinion that I am a stranger to your kin. I know you and Damise and you two are like, what, five percent of the children?"

"There are only seven of us," Alucier said, despite knowing how silly that sounded. With three sisters older than him and three sisters younger than him, he had heard enough jokes about the size of his family to automatically put him in a defensive position any time the subject arose.

"Uh, huh. _Only_ seven," Revius snorted. "How do people put up with so many kids? You know, a better wedding present than that silverware set you got would have been to bring one of the night-shift girls from Tuvello's here and have her talk to your little sister. Let her explain to her how she could avoid making the same mistake your parents did while still having all the fun."

The little sister getting married was Clea, who, at the age of sixteen, was the baby of the family. The idea of her having anything to do with the women of questionable repute who worked in the bar beneath his apartment contained as much disgust for Alucier as picturing his parents partaking in the activities that were required to conceive seven children. "I'm amazed, Revius. I think you have actually managed to offend every last one of my sensibilities with that statement."

Revius took it in stride. "You mean I haven't offended you like that before? We've lived in the same flat for six years and I know what I'm like."

He then went into a litany of prior acts that would have caused a nun of Jichia to burst into flames upon hearing it. Alucier purposefully blocked it out. The ability to ignore Revius, a thick skin and thicker bedroom walls had all come in handy during those six years. He hoped the rest of the Maerzen clan would emerge similarly untainted after this week-long visit was over.

The one member of his family he would have to worry about the least in that regard was his oldest sister, Damise. She had visited Alucier in Palas not that long ago and had held her own against Revius. In other words, she had flirted with him just as much as Revius had flirted with her. The two had gone to some effort to make Alucier uncomfortable with the situation but he knew they were only teasing him. Damise wasn't a naïve farm girl by any stretch, but she was also a woman of standards, one of which was to never become involved with any of his friends. Revius had a similar standard about the sisters of his friends, though his carried the disclaimer 'unless she's really, really good looking'.

Damise waited for them now at the gate that marked the entrance to the estate proper. She waved at her brother and, after making sure Alucier was paying attention, winked at Revius. She wouldn't be Damise if she didn't needle him somehow.

"You just couldn't wait to see me, could you?" Revius asked her.

"I didn't know you were coming, genius," she laughed. "Really, Alucier, does he follow you around everywhere you go?"

"When he's fleeing the wrath of women scorned, he does," Alucier said.

"Tsk, tsk, Revius. Trifling with the hearts of the fairer sex and then hiding behind my brother? I just might get the right idea about you."

"Really, Damise, you're just as insulting as Alucier. I think I need to find a nicer Maerzen sibling."

"You mean a less observant one," Alucier muttered.

Damise laughed again in agreement. "Unfortunately, you're out of luck. Clea and Rinell are the only ones who'd fall for that charm routine and I can assure you their men folk would not."

The threat of angry husbands and boyfriends wasn't that new to Revius. It was another concept that caused him to stop and reflect. "So, wait…are you telling me that there are non-sarcastic, non-cynical Maerzens?"

"Believe it or not," Alucier said. "Of course, Clea and Rini are also the only ones without brown hair and bad eyesight and since Mother is a redhead, we think she might be keeping a secret from Father."

"Ah," said Revius, "So your mom would like me…"

Alucier shuddered as, for the second time, Revius managed to do major damage to his increasingly frail sensibilities.

Damise didn't take it much better. "As charming as that sounds, especially as you just hit on me, I doubt Mother would be in much of a mood to deal with young lotharios. In fact, Lucier, that's why I came out to meet you. I thought you deserved a warning. With her baby getting married off, the two children who haven't taken the plunge have been weighing heavily on her mind."

If only that was a recent development. Most Asturian men were settled down by the age of twenty-five and it had been a few years since Alucier had been able to truthfully tell people he was that age. His mother liked to point out in her letters that 'people' were talking about his continued bachelorhood, but never gave any of those people specific names. The names she gave him were sweet, lovely and decidedly female names that could only be improved by switching the family name to Maerzen. He did have it better than Damise. She was approaching her mid-thirties and when a woman went unmarried for so long, 'people' started screaming. Sometimes, they pointed too.

The frightening thing to Alucier was that Damise had built up a strong armor against all comments on her private life. For her to wait outside like this to warn him, their mother must be really be in a mood – which meant more than matrimony was on her mind. "She's talking about grandchildren, isn't she?" Alucier sighed.

"What grandchildren? You mean the ones her good daughters have given her or the poor, poor grandbabies that her bad daughter and bad son are failing to produce?"

"See, this is why it pays to be me," Revius said, poking into their business. "My mother has zero expectations of me ever settling down and having kids. Well, legitimate ones, anyway."

Alucier tired to think of something – anything – to say to get Revius to shut up and behave before he met the rest of the family but his mind was preoccupied with the question of why he ever let him come along in the first place.

The answer was more criticism than explanation. It was the word 'stupid' repeated over and over and over again.

* * *

Author's Note: I'm trying something a little different this time. Instead of having a one-shot with multiple scene breaks that takes me forever to finish and post, I thought I'd spit out several small chapters instead. Preferences?


	2. II

A Sort of Homecoming

II: Meeting the Family

Two centuries ago, the Maerzens were just one more farming family in Dunhaven. They had a small patch of land, no bigger or better located than any other, and they prided themselves on the honest labor they put into making it successful. At least, most of the family did. There was one Maerzen, an enterprising young man named Lucien, who was much better at counting beans than cultivating them. Fortunately for him and future generations of Maerzens, Lucien's gift for finance went unmatched in the region. He devised an intricate plan of loans, liens and leases that boiled down to buying up as much damn land as he could get his hands on. In a few decades, Maerzens owned half of Dunhaven. As a tribute to Lucien's fiscal acumen, the first born male in every generation was named after him, though not _exactly_ after him as Dunhaven was still a farming town and its people didn't care for anything that looked like putting on airs.

That fusion of great wealth and modesty remained important to the modern day Maerzens. Their house might be five times the size of the average Dunhaven home, but that's exactly what it looked like – the average Dunhaven home built on a five to one scale. No fancy arches or pillars on the front of the house. No ornate topiaries or statues in the landscaping. Even the paint job was simple, eschewing the zigzag lines that were oddly popular in Palas. It was as architecturally interesting as a box.

The inside of the house was much the same. The furnishings in the numerous rooms were all about practicality over style. The 'formal' sitting room consisted of three comfy couches arranged in a U around a low built table that bore the scratches and stains of repeated use. The books on the shelves lining the back wall had actually been read. The objects d' arte sitting beside the books were half professional pieces and half craft projects undertaken by Maerzen children on rainy days. Anathema to moneyed Asturian families, there was not a single giant portrait of any Maerzen hanging anywhere on the walls. As a general rule, Maerzens hated having their picture painted.

Despite the simplicity of the wealth around him, Revius was still trying to tally it up. "Do you have any idea how much this place would sell for in Palas?" he said, mostly to himself. Alucier and Damise were reminiscing over a misshapen vase-bowl-thingy Alucier had sculpted as boy. It had been made as a gift to his mother, but even to this day, he couldn't say what it actually was.

Revius continued with his monologue, retracing the tour Damise had given him room by room in his appraisal. "That kitchen you showed me is the size of the first floor of my parent's place. Hell, this estate is probably bigger than Allen's." He paused in his gushing only long enough to question why Alucier would live in a crummy apartment when he could obviously afford someplace better.

"Because I love my roommate so damn much," Alucier answered, "and I can't bare the thought of him living alone in squalor."

"You would take me with you," Revius said, completely serious.

"For the record, Rev, it's my parents that have all the money. The only way I could get a hold of any of it was if I was willing to trade my sword for a ploughshare."

"You could always beg a great deal," said a woman standing by the door. She was wearing a plain green dress similar to the ones worn by the handful of maids the house employed, but the color of her hair and her attitude made her identity clear. "We might give you some money for providing us with the entertainment."

"I thought you raised your children to be proud and independent," Alucier said to her.

"I also raised them to be farmers and one of them had the nerve to run off to the big city to play with swords."

"He sounds like ungrateful wretch."

"Oh, just come here, boy," she said. But she didn't give Alucier the chance. She was on the couch beside him and giving her son a hug before he could set the vase-bowl-thingy down.

"Let me look at you," she said, standing up and stepping away to get the full view. "What are you thinking, wearing that ridiculous outfit out here in the country? Tell me you packed something with less puff in the sleeves."

"You know," Alucier said. "Some people respect the Caeli uniform."

"Makes more sense to respect the person wearing it, assuming they deserve it. I've heard what you've had to say about some of your fellow knights."

"Nothing bad about me, I hope," Revius said.

"I don't know. If my son would introduce us, I might be able to tell you."

That was typical of his mother – sniffing at decorum one second, embracing it the next, all thoroughly dependant on which one embarrassed her child more. Nonetheless, Alucier relented. "Hillaine Maerzen, this is Dashir Revius. Dashir Revius, this is my mother, Hillaine Maerzen."

Revius did his part too, bowing gracefully before Hillaine and taking her hand to place a gentle kiss upon it.

"Ah, the roommate," she commented. "You never told me how adorable he is, Alucier. So gallant too!"

Revius bowed even lower. "Truly, my lady, it is your grace that demands such tribute and any man that would fail to do you that honor is but the lowliest of curs."

Hillaine laughed to herself, not because of the flattery but because her son hadn't pulled any punches when describing his roommate in letters home. "Such pretty words, Sir Knight. Of course, if you talk to any of my daughters like that, I'll come after you with a pitchfork."

Revius stood up with a shrug. He was used to his reputation preceding him. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"I doubt it would be the last either," Hillaine said. "Still, I want to show off my girls. They just finished getting their final fittings for their dresses tomorrow so now it's my turn with the seamstress. Yours too, Damise."

Damise was less than thrilled with the prospect. So unthrilled, she volunteered to keep showing Revius around. "He hasn't seen the guest rooms yet. And I'm sure he'll find the barns just fascinating."

"Oh, yeah," he played along, "We city boys are enthralled by…whatever it is you keep in barns."

"Then Alucier can show them to you after he's through introducing the rest of his sisters. You can tell me and Damise all about your farm adventure when we are through with the seamstress."

Raising seven children can put an edge into a woman's commands, an edge that cannot be disobeyed no matter how old the children have gotten, or in Revius' case, even if the child doesn't actually belong to them. Three adults set about doing exactly as they were told.

Hillaine smiled at the display. "One more thing, Alucier. Drag your father in from the fields if you can. We got a new piece of equipment last week and he's stayed out there every night like a boy with a new toy since."

"It's some ungodly thing with blades and rakes that I imported from Basram," Damise explained. "At first, Father was against buying it because it was so expensive. I had to put my foot down and say 'You let me take over the business for a reason'. Now he stands out there watching it run like he's hypnotized."

"Ah, so that's where Alucier gets his thing for guymelefs from," Revius said.

"Excuse me, Revius, but I'm not the one who's been bugging Allen again and again to let him borrow Scherazade once it's finished being repaired."

"Yeah, because once you got in it, you'd crash into something and wreck it again."

"I am not that bad of a pilot."

"Boys can be so cute when they bicker over silly things," Hillaine mused to Damise. "Makes me wish I had had more than one."

Her daughter was very careful not to give any sort of response. She knew what the response to her response would be. History had taught her well. So when Hillaine finished her thought, Damise was already busy mentally reviewing delivery schedules. She never heard her mother say, "Well, one is better than none – much better. No offense, dear."

o-o-o-o-o

Any other time Revius was alone in a room with five women, he would silently celebrate his good luck and go to work.

This time was different. Four of the five women were married. The fifth would be married tomorrow. All of them had a brother who, while not his equal in swordplay, could still do some damage to Revius. Knowing said brother and said brother knowing him, said damage would probably be done to a particular region of Revius' body that he would muchly prefer to go undamaged. Factor in all of the women also having a father who had spent the last few days learning to run a big machine with lots of blades on it and Revius was on his best behavior.

Thankfully, none of the women's husbands were here. Doubly thankfully, because Revius was having a hard enough time as it was keeping the names of the ladies straight. Toss in a couple of gentlemen and he would have been lost. He knew Clea and Rinell were the blondes. He just didn't know which blonde was Clea and which one was Rinell. He was doing better with the blonde sisters than with the brunettes though. There were three of them to contend with and for the life of him, he couldn't remember the third name.

The sisters had picked up on his confusion and, compounding Revius' problem, had found it amusing. _I hate this family_, Revius thought as the females took turns picking on him.

"So, Dashir," said the brown-haired sister that was slightly taller than the rest. "Lia just got a new haircut and isn't sure if it suits her. What do you think?"

Revius frowned. He had thought the tall one was Lianora. There was the distinct chance that she _was_ Lianora and she was messing with him, but Revius wasn't sure enough to call the bluff. "I don't think I would be a fair judge of that. Why don't you ask Alucier and your father when they come back? They would know better than I do."

He hoped they would be here soon. Alucier had wandered off to do his mother's bidding and retrieve his father after making what was proving to be a far too hasty introduction to his sisters.

"I like Lia's hair," Clea or Rinell said. "I was thinking of wearing mine like that tomorrow for the wedding. Or do you think I would look better with hair more like Loran's, Dashir?"

"I think you look lovely exactly as you are." Revius had thought the blonde ones were supposed to be the nice ones, but he was glad she had taken a stab at him. Her set-up was easy to dodge and Loran was the name he had forgotten. Now that he had all the names at his disposal, he decided to go on the offensive. "So, Lianora, Loran, Clea, Rinell and Carlotte…you all have such beautiful names. Why don't you each individually tell me how your parents chose your names?"

"Aww, you're no fun," one of the brown haired ones announced.

His pride took a hit at being labeled 'no fun' but he squelched the snappy rejoinders. Being on his best behavior definitely precluded any descriptions of the typical manner in which women found him to be a great deal of fun. Revius was not without some depth to him though. He had been born and bred upper class, giving him plenty of experience to learn how to talk to anyone about nothing in particular. Taking his cues from tomorrow's nuptials, he waded into an innocuous, non-entendre laden discussion about how bride had met groom. He mostly paid attention to it.

It was apparent the sisters had heard the whole story before. They finished each other's sentences, laughed in anticipation of the funny parts and sighed sweetly before the gooey sentimental ones. Clea shone, and not only because she was the center of all the attention. For a second, Revius wondered if a woman would ever share a similar experience with her sisters over him. He had a good laugh over the notion.

"Is something funny?" Alucier asked when he came back and saw his friend in such high spirits. "Or did my sisters manage to drive you insane already?"

"That's why you left in such a hurry. You were setting me up," Revius accused.

"If I was setting you up, you would have spent the last twenty minutes listening to the history of threshers instead of me."

"It's a shame," said a voice from behind Alucier. "A boy moves to the city and forgets how great all the things at home are." The voice's owner approached Revius, extended a hand in greeting and over a vigorous handshake, introduced himself as Lucas Maerzen, apologized in case his girls had given Revius a hard time and offered to give a full tour of the land so he could explain to Revius all the joys of living on a farm. Revius tried to wedge his own introduction in there somewhere but gave up and nodded along.

Eventually, even the most experienced talker needs to take a breath. Alucier took advantage of that small pause to defend himself. "Dad, I have always hated the things at home. It's just not me. That's why I went to the city in the first place."

The older Maerzen was shorter than his son, and looked like he had about thirty years and at least that many pounds over Alucier. His face was rounder as well, with the trademark glasses resting just above his cheeks. Alucier and the sisters got the hair and eyes from him, but everything else came from their mother. From the warmth and sincerity in the man's laughter at Alucier's comment, Revius guessed the sarcastic part of their humor was maternal too.

"Oh, I know there are a few things at home you don't hate, son," Lucas said, reaching up to pat Alucier's shoulder. "Now I better go talk to the girls before I embarrass you in front of your friend."

"Wow," was all Revius could say.

"My father's a bit different from the rest of the family," Alucier said solemnly.

"He's so friendly and nice –"

"I'm nice."

"Yeah, but in a mean way."

"It's not mean…I just like to add a little humor to things, that's all."

"Dark, mordant humor," Revius countered. "Your father likes puns, doesn't he? I bet his idea of a joke is a good pun."

In fact, making plays on words was a sort of hobby for Lucas Maerzen, one that he had shared with his children so much that the assigning of their chores had been met with less groaning than the jokes about them. There was one joke in particular - about gathering eggs from the hen house - Alucier had heard at least a hundred times. "Yeah, so…some people like puns…"

"I wasn't picking on him. Don't be so defensive." Revius took a long, appraising look at Alucier, then, with a smirk, said, "People can act so differently around their families than they do with everyone else. I think it's going to be fun watching you be all off balance around your parents and your sisters. And your mother hasn't even started in on you about your love life…"

"Your amusement is my highest priority," Alucier said, adding extra meanness to his niceness. His mother's nagging was bad. Revius taking a perverse delight in that nagging would be worse – much, much worse.

"This is going to be such a great week," Revius proclaimed. "I can't wait to tell Eries and Seclas all about it when we get back."

Alucier disagreed, but did not say so. He thoughts returned once more to why he would let his family be exposed to Revius and vice versa. He got the same answer as before, that he must be utterly stupid, but this time a rhetorical question popped up too: 'What am I, some kind of masochist?'

* * *

Author's Note - I hope I didn't frighten anyone by updating after just a week. This story seems to be spewing itself out faster than anything else I've written in a loooong time. It's not going to be terribly long; I only have three more chapters planned.

Thanks, RahS, for your concern. I had started that story and left it half-finished before Morph died and finishing it turned out to be pretty therapeutic.


	3. III

Homecoming

III: A Nice Family Dinner

With the sun still high in the sky and Alucier and Revius' normal dinner time hours away, Hillaine pulled the rope in the kitchen that rang the bell that signaled it was time to eat. She savored each tug. With most of her children married and starting families of their own, it had been awhile since she had to use it. Normally, it was just her and Lucas and the maids. Sometimes Damise joined them. More and more though, she was working late or traveling on business, leaving another empty seat at the table. The other girls would bring their husbands and children by fairly often, but it was rare to have them all together. It was a far cry from the days when her children were young and she had to scream to make her demand that everyone eat their veggies heard.

Which was why she had wanted this one last dinner before Clea was married. Hillaine had read somewhere the Asturian royals always secluded themselves with their families the day before a wedding and thought it sounded like a good idea. The girls liked the idea, as did their husbands – especially after it was pointed out they would get a night away from their wives and kids out of it. Her son-in-laws had been good today, watching the children while their wives were with the seamstress so they deserved a reward. They were quick to claim it, handing the kids over and absconding with the groom-to-be to Dunhaven's largest tavern before too many questions about their plans for tonight could be asked. They were probably about to have their own meal soon. They surely had had a lot of drinks already.

Hillaine gave an extra tug on the rope for sentiment. The faster grandchildren had made it to the dining room by the fifth ring. Hillaine directed them to a smaller table that was more in the kitchen than in the dining room. Carlotte's boys protested, claiming they were big enough to eat with the adults. Holding their breath wasn't nearly as persuasive as they thought it would be. Lianora's son convinced them they would have more fun if the adults weren't around and her daughters, acquainted with their little brother's idea of fun, pleaded with their mother and grandmother to be allowed to eat elsewhere.

"I've told the cook to keep an eye on things," Hillaine assured them while making a mental note to put a bonus in the cook's wages this week. The girls kept moaning about stupid, icky boys until Rinell brought in her baby girl. The more annoying traits of the three rambunctious boys didn't hold a candle to the cuteness of their young cousin.

With the grandchildren taken care of, Hillaine moved unto her children. The girls were finishing setting the table and bringing the food out the kitchen. They left the roast to their father and brother. Two days ago, it had been the largest cow in the herd. Today, it was a hulking mass of succulent beef, slow cooked on a spit and seasoned to perfection. Tomorrow, the sure to be plentiful leftovers would appear in a stew and sandwiches at the wedding reception. To get to that stage, however, it had to be carved.

Lucas and Alucier were working on it, measuring progress by how many plates of meat they were producing. Lucas led three plates to two, a score Alucier's sisters wouldn't let pass without some commentary.

"One of the best swordsmen in the country and an old man is out carving him," Lianora remarked.

Lucas protested being called an old man. Alucier protested having his skills called into question. "So I'm out of practice carving meat. I don't come across too many enemy cow soldiers."

"Friendly cow soldiers on the other hand…" said Damise.

Alucier poked his carving knife at the air in front of Damise. "If you want me to demonstrate my other skills with a blade, Lia, I believe I have a volunteer here."

"No, thanks," Damise said. "If you want to give a demonstration though, why don't you have a sparring match with Revius? It'll be fun watching our brother get his ass kicked."

"He could beat you?" Loran asked. Alucier appreciated the disbelief in her voice.

"Shocking, isn't it?" Damise said. "Lucier isn't invincible and Revius isn't a total bum."

"He's still a bum," insisted Alucier. "A bum who's really good with a sword."

"Kids, you shouldn't speak poorly of a guest," Lucas said. He also believed one shouldn't speak poorly of a person behind his or her back, but the guest thing really got to him. "Where is he anyway? He should have heard the bell in his room."

"Would city boy even know what that bell means?" Damise asked Alucier.

He shrugged. "Maybe. Even if he doesn't, he'd probably come around to ask if anybody else hears a bell ringing."

Hillaine volunteered to ring the bell again, pulling harder this time to make it louder.

Over the din, Alucier whispered to Damise, "Or mother can drive him out of his room with all the noise."

o-o-o-o-o

Upstairs, Revius rested comfortably in a large tub of cool water. He had been surprised and relieved to find the Maerzens did not extend their disapproval of all things modern and fancy to their bathrooms. Comfort, convenience and cleanliness had trumped tradition soundly in that area. The bathroom wasn't ornate by any means, but the mere fact that it was indoors put it well above most houses in the country. The fully functional plumbing was a godsend.

The size of the tub was a rarity too. It had taken a while to fill, longer than it had taken Revius to peel off his sweat-soaked Caeli uniform and properly curse the tailor that had designed such heavy togs. Sliding into the tub also provoked thoughts of religion. The prickly heat on his skin was gone in an instant. The sweat and grime from the trip here floated away. It was still floating in the same water he was, so Revius dipped some of the dirty water out and threw some bath salts in and called it even. With his back against the front of the tub, his feet couldn't reach the opposite end, so he angled his body to put his them up on the side. He made a pillow out of a towel and tucked it between his neck and the rim of the tub. Thus settled, Revius didn't plan on moving for anything, not even that damned bell, whatever it was for.

o-o-o-o-o

Hillaine Maerzen also believed in being nice to her guests. She had limits though, and they included ringing the dinner bell until her arms got tired and the family was half-deaf.

"He'll come down when he wants to," Alucier said. "This would just be a late lunch for him anyway. Wait until later, and he'll be scavenging in the kitchen for some food."

Lucas volunteered to make up a plate for him, something Damise deemed unnecessary considering the volume of food on the table. "We're turning all this into leftovers for the wedding reception anyway. He can get some of that. Assuming we ever start this meal so that we may leave food over from it."

The family took her hint and got in their seats. There was one more thing to be done before the feast could begin, however. "Alucier, why don't you give the offering to Jichia?" Lucas asked. "You've been away the longest; it'll be good to hear you make it."

Alucier thought it would be fantastic if he could give the offering, considering he no longer remembered what the words were. Some stuff about the ocean giving life, add a thank you here and there – he could probably make up something that would fool a group of atheists, but there was no way people who recited it everyday would buy it. "Actually, I was hoping to hear you give it, Dad. You know, for old time's sake."

His sisters, save Damise, giggled. They knew he didn't know. As children, they took turns giving the offering each night. They used to point out each other's mistakes or try to distract that evening's speaker with funny faces or kicks under the table. Snickering at a sibling's misfortune was almost as traditional in their family as the offering itself.

Lucas gave the offering and Alucier paid strict attention to each word. He was going to be here for a week; odds were he couldn't weasel out of it again. Once Jichia had been praised for the last time, the family attacked the food in front of them, scooping out servings and passing dishes with quick efficiency. That part of the meal, no one had forgotten.

They ate…then ate more. Clea was the first to give in and toss her napkin on her plate. Her mother and sisters didn't last much longer. Alucier stared at the bowl of his mother's special recipe potatoes, wanting another bite, but fearing he might explode if one more morsel of food entered his body. In enjoying the quality of the home cooking, he had gotten carried away with the quantity.

Only one of them wasn't prepared to quit. Lucas wiped up the last bit of gravy from his second helping of meat with his third helping of bread and wondered why everybody had stopped eating. "Serving room for dessert?" he asked.

"If I have dessert," Clea groaned, "I'll have to get re-refitted for my wedding dress."

To Lucas' disappointment, all of the females agreed on this point. He turned to his son for back up, but came away empty. Ever the optimist, Lucas proclaimed that just meant there was more pie for him.

Owing to a keen sense of timing, luck or an ability to hone in on all things rich and sinful, Revius chose this moment to finally put in an appearance at dinner. "Ooo, pie. What kind are we having?"

"Deep dish berry pie with heavy cream," Hillaine answered. "It's an old family recipe."

Revius quickly occupied the one seat with in a clean plate in front of it, took fork and knife in hands and assumed the position of one very eager to be served. Lucas happily complied, tottering off to the kitchen to retrieve the dessert. His daughters slowly followed, not for pie but to gather up their children. Damise stayed in her seat, enjoying the warm, sleepy feeling the big meal gave her and not really caring to have nieces and nephews spoil it. Alucier also stayed seated. Potatoes were one thing. He would not miss pie.

"I guess it's up to me to clear the table," Hillaine sighed meaningfully.

"Looks like," said Damise.

"Sure does," Alucier agreed.

"Come on, guys, even I'm not that bad," Revius said. To prove it, he put his utensils down and asked Hillaine to lead the way. It took both of them carrying multiple dishes on several trips to get the table cleared. Damise and Alucier watched them work, both noting that Revius nibbled on the contents of his dishes all the way into the kitchen.

He came out of the kitchen nibbling too. His slice of pie barely fit on the plate. He picked out berries one by one, making sure to pronounce each one 'nummy' to remind Alucier and Damise what they could be having right now if they hadn't been so lazy.

Good things do come to those that wait, though sometimes in smaller amounts. Lucas brought out the pie remains and between them, Alucier and Damise had a slice half the size of Revius'.

"I think someone is trying to teach us a lesson, brother."

"I think we're a little old for that. Don't you, sister?"

"You're never too old to learn to respect your mother," Revius said reproachfully. A berry to the left cheek told him what Damise thought of his lesson.

"Damise!" Hillaine yelled. "Honestly, if that's how you treat men, it's no wonder…"

Alucier was suddenly grateful that he hadn't hurled at berry at Revius himself. He sensed a downturn in the congeniality of the dinner conversation and wanted his mouth stuffed full of pie so no one could drag him into it. Lucas and Revius also got the hint. The men exchanged grunts of 'good pie', 'oh, yeah, great pie' and the like while Damise prepared her response.

"Yes, Mother. I'm not married because I fling berries at people who are being sarcastic asses. If only I could drop that objectionable habit, I could find myself a man and end my miserable existence as an unfilled, weak little girl."

"That's not what I meant."

"It's what you said."

"I was only joking. You shouldn't take it so seriously."

"You were joking? So all the other times you've brought up marriage to me, you're just perpetuating a running gag?"

The men, truly frightened now and running out of pie, began a very quiet discussion of their favorite desserts.

"Remember those hard candies we used to make with the last fruit of the season?"

"They were good, but I liked the torts Mother made better."

"Oh, yeah, she made layers with that shortbread…"

"I like the chocolates with the liquid center."

Alucier and Lucas had to agree: chocolates with liquid centers were very good indeed.

"Honesty, Damise, I don't know why you're so upset. I'm worried about you; that's all. You've done an excellent job running the farm since you took over, but there's more to life than work. I'm afraid the day will come when you realize what you're missing out on and it'll be too late to do anything about it."

"I'm not missing out on anything, Mother. I love my nieces and nephews but I don't want children of my own." Damise stopped short of saying she wasn't missing out on having a man in her life either. She had had several men in her life (more than several actually) and it was best that the casual nature of these relationships went unexplained. The point here was to win the argument, not to give her mother a heart attack.

"But what if you change your mind?"

"And what if I don't? Nagging me won't make my maternal instincts kick in."

"I don't nag. I may mention it every now and then, but it's only out of concern. You understand, don't you, Alucier?"

Alucier paled. He wanted to tell his father about the spiced cakes that the palace cooks made. They were light and tasty. The glaze on them had a subtle lemony tang that kept them from being too sweet. He wanted to promise to bring Lucas a batch of them the next time he came home, assuming the next few minutes weren't about to sour him on the concept of coming home for the rest of his life.

Damise waited for his response with a raised eyebrow. She expected him to take her side. Which, of course, was the same thing their mother expected.

"I wouldn't say nag, per se. You're…persistent."

That answer didn't satisfy anybody. Revius mumbled that he was a dead man while Lucas shook his head in sympathy.

"Persistent as a plague," Damise said.

"Persistent? Because I may ask if you're seeing anyone special in the occasional letter to you?"

It was in every letter to him and it wasn't just a question. "Well, you do like to tell me about the local single girls an awfully lot."

"I'm just keeping you apprised of the goings on in Dunhaven. I know you like your life in Palas, but I thought you still wanted to know what was happening at home."

"And single girls are the only ones doing anything in Dunhaven?"

Damise chuckled in satisfaction. Alucier _was_ on her side and had scored a hit after dodging a guilt trip.

His verbal sparring skills did come from Hillaine though and she was able to prove it with her next attack. "I admit, sometimes I go on a little, but I'm just trying to make Dunhaven sound more exciting. You don't come here all that often and I thought if I gave you a reason to come home, I might see you more. I miss having my only son around."

Revius saluted Hillaine's deft counterstrike with a low whistle. "She's good. You should bring Eries with you next time and have her argue for you."

"Oh, I don't think a princess would want to come to tiny little Dunhaven." Hillaine said woefully.

"Mother, I get that you're trying to crush me and Damise with guilt so you can stop now. And you know what? Eries would come here if I asked her so don't start on the 'you have big, important friends now, too fancy for the poor folks at home' route."

"We could have an actual princess here in Dunhaven," Lucas interrupted. "A real princess… Everyone here was so impressed when you were named to the Caeli. That would really blow them away."

"One princess is nothing," Revius said, "He could probably get two princesses here."

Alucier wondered what the two princesses comment meant. He wasn't close to Princess Millerna. As far as he knew, she thought of him as that guard that's always around her sister. But then he remembered the name of another princess and panicked more than when this argument started.

Revius winked at him and said, "Just say the right words to Marqesita and she'd follow you out here."

The other three Maerzens exchanged puzzled looks. "Marqe-who?" Lucas finally asked.

"Marqesita Verlana e' Egzard, the eldest princess of Egzardia. Alucier didn't tell you about her? She's been trying to get down his -- Um, I mean she's been a friend of his for what, a year or two?" Revius looked to Alucier to clarify the dates. He did not receive that clarification.

Damise was highly disappointed. "All the stuff I've told you and you don't tell me you're making time with a princess?"

Hillaine glanced at her daughter, wondering briefly what 'all the stuff' could be, but right now, this new lead into her son's love life was too hot to not follow. "You've been courting a princess?"

"I'm not courting Marqesita."

"What does she look like, son?" Lucas asked.

"It doesn't matter because I'm not courting her."

"She's gorgeous," Revius helpfully supplied. "Long reddish-brown hair, these nice, high cheekbones. And her body – " He drew curvy lines in the air to illustrate. "She's not shy about showcasing it, either."

"Shut up, Revius."

"Oh," Damise sighed in understanding. "That explains why you never told our parents."

"I didn't tell them because there's nothing to tell."

"I don't know, Alucier," Hillaine said. "She sounds a little wild. And she's from another country? How are you planning to work that out?" It figured. Alucier finally found someone and it wasn't someone she wanted him to find.

"There's nothing to work out! I. Am. Not. Courting. Marqesita."

"Yeah, she's pretty intense, but she does come to Asturia a good bit as an ambassador for Egzardia. She came here right before the war and did a lot of her country's negotiating. So you can tell she's not stupid either. She knows how to handle people."

"Didn't I tell you to shut up, Revius?"

"So how does she handle you, little brother?"

Hillaine reacted as if Damise had thrown another berry. "Damise! We do not talk like that at the dinner table! Isn't that so, Lucas?"

Lucas heard his name being invoked, but was too busy contemplating the space in the air where Revius had drawn those curves to respond. He was good family man, thoroughly devoted to his wife, but the arcs of those lines…

"Yes, Damise. You should watch your mouth," Alucier said for him.

"You're taking Mother's side…? Now I know there's something going on."

"There is nothing going on! Revius, will you tell them nothing is going on?" That was a dangerous gambit, asking Revius to back him up, but he was getting desperate. They weren't listening to what he said; his only hope was outside confirmation that he was telling the truth about Marqesita.

Revius considered. Technically, Alucier was right. They had never been on an actual date. Either he or Eries or some Egzardian official was always around when the two were together. Most of their flirting consisted of trading barbs to see who could come up with the cleverest insult. Marqesita made no secret of what she would like to do with Alucier should they ever actually be alone together, but Revius supposed the argument could be made that she was only doing that to throw Alucier off. Revius wouldn't buy that argument, but someone could make it.

"I said, tell them there's nothing going on, Revius. You are my roommate, one whose rent I have been known to cover, I might add, so you would know better than anyone."

Loyalty (and a fondness for his living quarters) dictated he should agree with Alucier. That wasn't enough, though. "Come on, man. Nothing? You think she's smart and funny. You admire how she puts her title to use instead of just using it. You write back and forth to each other all the time – "

"He writes to her all the time?" Hillaine cut in. "He doesn't write to me all the time. Now, I write to him all the time…"

"Hmm, his mother," Damise said, holding one hand at table level. "And the hot princess." She raised her other hand as high as it could go.

"It's not all the time, Mother."

"Yeah," Revius said, "'Cause it takes awhile for letters to go back and forth from Egzardia to Asturia."

Alucier glared at him. Somebody's share of the rent was going to go up a lot next month.

"It sounds serious." Hillaine did not sound happy about her conclusion.

Alucier didn't bother to contradict her. She'd just accuse him of being defensive, then Revius would try to help and say something that made everything sound even worse and then Damise would make fun of him. He was grateful his father wasn't saying anything, though Alucier was a little concerned about the dreamy expression on his face.

"This is perfect," Damise said. "I get chewed out for not being with anyone and Alucier gets chewed out for the exact opposite. And I haven't even finished my pie."

No one else had finished their pie either. Though talking wasn't stopping them anymore, only Revius started eating again. He wasn't that hungry anymore, but he figured excusing himself to get another slice from the kitchen would be a good excuse to get the hell out of the room.

* * *

Yet another quick post. I hope I'm not spoiling you. :p 


	4. IV

A Sort of Homecoming

IV: Back Porch Confessional

Nightfall brought rumblings of thunder over Dunhaven. The storm and the cooler temperature that followed were a blessing. The parched crops would get some water and the participants in tomorrow's wedding wouldn't risk heat stroke from roasting in their formal attire. Alucier was especially grateful. He had changed out of his Caeli uniform the second he had had the chance and had not been looking forward to getting back into it. He would have sooner worn a beat up pair of coveralls to the wedding than the blue and the gold if the heat had stayed around.

The rain had actually made it a tad chilly outside, though not chilly enough to send Alucier back inside. Tempers had eased; questions about Marqesita had not. By staying outside, he ran the risk of his family turning to Revius for answers, but, at this point, he didn't really care. His side of the story could never compete with the kind of speculation and innuendo Revius could come up with so he saw no point in trying. He was taking the high road, a path which conveniently afforded him dignity _and_ an escape.

In his childhood, one of his favorite escapes would be to sit for hours on the swing hanging from the back porch ceiling. The swaying motion and the view of the fields were a soothing antidote to the madness that came with having six sisters. When he had heard enough about boys, clothes and more boys, he'd stomp to the back door, loudly proclaim his displeasure with his noisy siblings and retreat to the swing with a slam of the door. His parents had humored him. His sisters had never even noticed.

After all these years, it was much the same – minus the stomping. He had been out on the porch, sprawled out on the swing, for a good hour without any disturbance. Alucier thought he might have the rest of the night to himself until Damise opened the back door and asked him if he was hiding again.

"I'm not hiding," he replied. "And what do you mean by 'again'?"

"You hid out here all the time when you were a kid," she said.

One sister had noticed, then. It figured it was Damise. She never really cared for girl talk herself. She probably had wished she had been out here with him all those times.

"Scoot over," she ordered.

Alucier complied, pulling himself up into a sitting position. The motion, along with Damise plopping down beside him, made the chains creak ominously. He looked up, half expecting bits of porch ceiling to come down on him, but everything was holding firm.

Damise followed his gaze. "Don't worry. I had this whole porch replaced last year. We could jump up and down on this swing and it would still hold."

He had abused the swing like that as a child but now, he was much bigger and much more knowledgeable about weights and supports to challenge Damise's claim. "I'll take your word for it."

"I'm glad somebody does. Mom and dad didn't want to replace it because they thought it still looked okay. And then they saw the estimate I got from the builders."

Alucier could picture how that conversation went. Frugality was next to godliness in Lucas' book. "I can only imagine how long that fight went on. No offense, but I'm a little shocked that you won."

"Damn straight I won. They let me take over the business and this house is owned by the business. Ergo, I can do whatever I want with it. You know, in theory."

"In theory," he echoed with a laugh. "They're never going to retire completely from the farm, are they?"

"Nope," Damise said. "I don't know if I want them to, either. Caustic after dinner fights aside, I do like working with them. Excuse me, I meant I like working with dad."

"Mother gives you a lot of credit for the way you've run things."

"Yeah," she admitted. "And that makes it even more annoying when she goes on the 'don't you really want to be a mommy?' routine. She knows I like my work. She knows I'm good at it. So why does she want me to quit? Does she really think I'd be happy letting my husband run everything while I chase after a bunch of kids?"

"Maybe she thinks your husband would chase after the kids while you ran the business."

"Because that type of thing happens all the time around here," Damise said drolly. "I overhear enough snotty comments about not knowing my place. Assuming I could find a man willing to agree to such an arrangement and assuming I will ever change my mind and actually want children, could you imagine the crap they'd say then?"

"Hmm," Alucier answered, though honestly, he didn't have to imagine anything. He remembered all the things he'd heard said about Eries being on the council. He'd heard things about Princess Millerna too, when it became known she was taking medical lessons. "But you don't care about what others think. It's what you want, right? That's what you'll do."

"That's what I _am_ doing," she corrected him. "You don't think I'm harboring some sad wedding fantasy, do you? You know how many times I've turned down proposals."

Alucier thought of Damise's first suitor. He couldn't remember the boy's name, only that he was the son of an importer that bought grain from the family farm and that he had pursued Damise relentlessly from the first time he saw her. There had been flowers, gifts and more than a few bad poems. Damise had liked him and had been flattered by all the attention, but her reaction to his proposal (done in front of the entire Maerzen clan) had been to burst out into laughter. There weren't any flowers or gifts or poetry after that. There were, on the other hand, other men, most of whom wouldn't propose to a woman unless her parents were holding a bladed object to his throat. Damise kept Lucas and Hillaine mostly in the dark about these suitors, but had never been compelled to extend that benefit to Alucier. In truth, he had worried about this. He had wondered if Damise was so sour on marriage because of the class of men she normally associated with. And, deep down, there was a small but persistent belief that eventually Damise would meet the right guy and all of her objections would instantly fade away.

He was the one with the sad wedding fantasy.

He had never voiced these ideas to Damise. Years of wrangling with their mother had made her defensive to the point where any negative commentary on the subject was greeted with hostility, such as Hillaine's berry throwing admonition. Despite that fight though, Alucier finally spoke his mind. "I know you've had options, Damise. But did you ever really consider them? If Perfect Man showed up tomorrow, would you dismiss him outright or give him a chance?"

"I'd talk to him exactly long enough to determine if he had a Perfect Little Sister that I could set up with you," she retorted.

"Damise…"

"If there really is such a person as Perfect Man, he would know to give me space before I had to dismiss him."

"And after that?"

"I don't know," Damise groaned. "I can't say nothing will ever happen, but right now, I don't think anything needs to happen. I'm happy with what I do. More than happy, I'm proud of it too. You're spoiled living in Palas with your modern princesses and businesswomen. Out here, it's a big deal that I'm a woman doing what I'm doing. And a part of me does think getting married and settling down would undermine what I've accomplished. But there isn't a single part of me that wants to be doing something else. I thought you would understand that."

"I do," Alucier said, trying very hard to not attach a 'but'. He succeeded in the technical sense. "I just sort of understand where mother's coming from. Ten years from now, are you going to look around at all your family and friends, see what they have and think you're missing something?"

"If I ever feel like I'm missing something, I'll do what it takes to get it. And don't bother telling me I might get too old. A woman can adopt a child at any age. There will never be a dearth of single men, especially for a woman who owns a huge, highly profitable farm."

"Sounds like you have thought about it," Alucier accused playfully.

"Oh, yes, little brother, you've discovered my horrible secret," she said, playing along. "I've actually got a groom lined up and baby names all picked out. I'm only pretending not to because I know it annoys mother."

"Spite can be such a powerful motivator."

"And what would you know about that? Is that why you moved to fancy-schmancy Palas and refuse to bring home a daughter-in-law for mother?"

"Hey!" Alucier protested. "Here we were having a nice discussion about everything that's wrong with you and you had to go and ruin it by trying to twist it onto me."

"Aw, did I break up all your fun by pointing out a double standard? You know, you're lucky I'm not married, because then the full force of mother's nagging would be aimed squarely at you."

He hadn't thought about it like that before. He caught enough grief as it was and, he had to admit, Damise caught a lot more because she was older and because she still lived at home. If he were ever to become his mother's only target… "I'm sorry, Damise," he quickly apologized. "You're right. You should never, ever, ever get married and I was wrong to think differently. Of course, you would know best because you're so much wiser than I."

"Now you appreciate me," she said. "Buuuuuut…since you brought it up… Tell me more about your pretty Egzardian princess."

"_You_ brought it up."

"That's not very descriptive."

Turnabout was supposed to be fair play. Damise had been open and frank with him; he owed her the same. That didn't stop Alucier from repeating a childhood habit of lightly punching her on the arm and calling her a meanie before he confessed. "Sita is an attractive, intriguing woman who lives far away from me in a big castle with her royal family and a not so small army. The rest of the army is stationed in various places all throughout Gaea."

It wasn't hard for Damise to read between those lines. "Well, at least your relatively high status as a Caeli gives you the intelligence to know better and the discipline to follow through. And it's still really impressive to us farm folk."

"Gee, thanks. That's so inspirational coming from someone who lives in town that puts on an annual cow festival."

"Don't mock Dairy Days. Raising cows is part of this family's bread and butter. Butter, anyway."

Alucier smiled at Damise's unintentional pun. Sometimes pieces of Lucas Maerzen showed up in his children at the oddest moments. "You're just defending them because you were the Dairy Princess one year." All of his sisters had had that particular honor. Damise was the only one he ever gave any flak for it.

"That was humiliating enough as it was," Damise said. "I don't need you bringing it up all the time."

"Oh, come on! You looked so regal with your cow scepter and wheat grain tiara," he teased.

"But not as regal as an Egzardian princess, right?"

The escalation of 'hostilities' had Alucier concluding that Damise was in fact, a _big_ meanie while Damise rethought the stature of being a Caeli. There were twelve of them. How special can a person be if they're merely one out of twelve?

"One out of twelve out of the entire population of Asturia," he argued. "And the commander of the Caeli answers only to the king. And, technically, the council, but it's still very, very prestigious."

"But you're not the commander of the Caeli," Damise pointed out.

"I could be. The current commander, Lord Ramkin, is retiring. Somebody has to take over."

"Somebody being my ambitious little brother…"

"Why not?" he asked. The idea had been in his head since the moment Lord Ramkin announced he was hanging up his sword. As much as Alucier loved his current position as Princess Eries' personal guard, he felt somewhat limited by it. For one thing, he had to admit there was some truth behind the jokes his fellow knights occasionally made – he didn't really do anything. The regular palace guards were already sworn to protect the royal family with their lives. Eries, while more political than a typical princess, was also shrewd enough to avoid making any truly dangerous enemies. She didn't merit the special attention in that regard. So there he was, one of the celebrated Knights of the Heavens, and the only service he provided to his country was being a good friend to its elder princess – something he would always do, regardless of his orders.

During the one-day war with Zaibach, he had done something more. The need for skilled soldiers on the field had outweighed the need for Eries to retain a private guard, so he had volunteered for an assignment near the front lines. He had expected to put up a valiant fight for his country, but he hadn't any idea the troop under his command would wind up foiling a sneak attack that would have left the Asturian army vulnerable. His reputation had grown that day, to the point where his name was as recognizable as his uniform. It was commanding the same level of respect, too.

But the new found fame was nothing compared to how he felt about the acts that garnered it. He had been out there, in the middle of the battle, putting the oaths he had taken when he joined the Order into action. Alucier had, by no means, any desire to fight for the sake of fighting. It was fighting for the sake of his country that had given him a sense of fulfillment. Eries could take care of herself. Alucier wanted to be able to take care of those not as fortunate.

"Why not…" Damise echoed. Looking at her little brother lost in thought, she realized how important it was to him. There would be no jokes, no teasing. Whether he got the post of not, Damise knew he had to try for it. "Damn if I can think of a reason. You always said the older Caeli were a bunch of rich guys that bought their positions and none of the younger ones sound like they've could handle all the political crap that would come with the job. You've learned enough from Princess Eries that it wouldn't be any problem for you."

"You know you're my favorite sister, don't you?" Alucier asked with a warm laugh. He hadn't intentionally fished for encouragement, but hearing it, particularly from a woman who had pursued her own dream so fearlessly, was helping stamp out the little bits of lingering doubt.

"Yeah, I know. I try not to brag about it to the others. It would wound them so."

"I thought you were being supportive now."

"Alucier," she said with great import, "I think you would make the best commander the Caeli have seen in how ever long they've been around. Books would be written about the 'Maerzen technique' of leadership. Statues would be carved in your honor. Jichia himself will appear at your side one day to proclaim you his superior and ask that all of his followers begin worshipping you instead."

"You can stop being supportive now."

"On your first day of godhood, do you think you could set up a regular schedule of rain during the night and sun during the day to help me out with the farm?"

"Oh, you know, that kind of wrecks my plans. I was going to send you a plague of insects."

"Ah, see, right there," Damise said. "You're thinking ahead. How many of those other Caeli are plotting revenge on their big sisters this far in advance? You've got the job sewn up."

He hoped it would be that simple. Maybe it would be. Damise's biased opinion wouldn't hold much sway over the king and royal council when it came time to make the decision. Eries' biased opinion, on the other hand, would. Connections alone wouldn't be enough, though. The recent trend in nominees to the Order had been merit over favoritism, mostly owing to Lord Ramkin's insistence. He had wanted the name Caeli to be restored to its original grandeur instead of a title up for auction to the best connected bidder. The last six, Alucier included, had earned their position by proving their skills; Lord Ramkin would make sure his successor damned well deserved the job.

_So really_, he thought, _it's down to us last six Caeli_. He could eliminate Allen. He was too busy with his newly returned sister and too far out of King Aston's favor. Seclas hadn't expressed much interest in the promotion beyond wondering how big of a raise he'd get. Management never really was his forte. Geffrid had a good deal of experience handling troops as the head of the training camp at Fort Thedrick, but hated leaving his home there to come to Palas. He wasn't likely to want the position either. The eldest of the six, Fortanen, wasn't much liked by his fellow knights and Lord Ramkin knew it.

_So really_, Alucier thought again, _it's down to me… and Revius_. That was problematic for several reasons, some of them pretty messy. Revius had served as the captain of the palace guards since becoming a Caeli. Moreover, he had actually done the job well. That looked more impressive on a résumé than hanging out with a princess. Which, too, was something Revius had done. Alucier believed Eries would recommend him over Revius but that wasn't a position he wanted to put her in.

Alucier winced as he thought of the potential rivalry between his friend-roommate-fellow knight.

Damise was quick to pick up on his worsening mood. "Problem?" she asked.

"I just realized who my closest competitor is going to be."

"As if anybody could compete with you."

"I think Revius will give it a good try."

"Revius? Oh… That… That isn't good," Damise concluded.

"I don't know. It could be fun making all our friends chose sides."

"You're sure he wants it?"

"He sounded like he wanted to after we heard about Lord Ramkin's retirement."

"He sounded like?" Damise punched Alucier in the arm a lot harder than he had hit her. She didn't call him a meanie, just an idiot. "Revius wants a lot of things. That doesn't mean he's serious about them. He's your friend; don't you know him better than that? So instead of getting yourself in a knot about this, why don't you ask him straight out? Tell him how serious you are."

"Oh sure, be all logical and rational," he said sourly. He knew she was right. Worse, he knew she was right before she had even said anything. He was used to being the one doling out the sagely advice. "I guess I should talk to him sooner than later. Think mom is through prying him for information on Marqesita?"

"He was through giving out information a half hour ago," Damise snorted. "Dad mentioned the bachelor party in town and Revius convinced him that they had to go."

"Revius has our father?"

Alucier and Damise shared a frightened look. Lucas normally shied away from gatherings falling into the 'wild' category. He had an alcohol tolerance level similar to his son's (which was to say zero) and the inhibitions of an old nun. Unfortunately, the exploitation of the former could lead to the utter destruction of the latter. A few sips of the ale the farmhands distilled from the leftovers of the barley crops had once produced a round of singing and dancing during a town meeting so bawdy that Hillaine, to this day, would only refer to it as 'The Incident'. Adding Revius, who thought getting people to 'loosen up' was a noble pursuit, to the equation almost guaranteed that Hillaine would have to start referring to multiple incidents.

"Now. I have to speak to Revius now," Alucier said.

Damise watched him race off the porch and towards the stables. All the while, a song about a stable boy and his horse loving girlfriend played back in her head. Her father's voice had gone deeply out of tune at the chorus, but that was the price he had paid to sing louder than the outraged screaming of Widow Contin and the ladies of her quilting circle.


	5. V

Chapter V: Ties That Bind

Riding into town at night and in the rain wasn't the brightest idea Alucier had ever had. He was lucky the horse was familiar with the path. The lantern Alucier carried was only illuminating a small circle around the horse's head and a few feet in front. He was sure to keep the horse at slow trot. The last thing he needed was for the horse to trip over some unseen object in the road and send Alucier flying head first into the ground.

He wouldn't have had to worry if he were riding through Palas. The streets there were all paved with smooth stone and lined with lampposts. Even in the dead of night, there was enough light to see from the end of one block to another.

__

One more advantage of city life, Alucier thought. Then he wondered when he had started keeping count.

The horse seemed to be of a different opinion of being out in the country. It slowed pace dramatically once they reached town, perhaps fearful of the noise coming from the tavern. Alucier was a bit fearful too, though for a much different reason. As he tethered his horse to the fence bordering the tavern, he kept his ear open for his father's voice, whether it was speaking or singing. He couldn't pick it out, but then, he couldn't pick out much of anything from the din other than the occasional extra loud shout for more ale.

The party, despite being hours old, was still in full swing. It was debatable what hit Alucier harder when he opened the door – the noise or the smell of alcohol. Living above one of Palas' oldest and roughest taverns hadn't prepared him for the spectacle of virtually every male in the town of Dunhaven gathered in one building and partying as if it was the end of the world.

He made his way through the crowd, turning down the mugs of ale that were thrust in his face by well-meaning partygoers and nodding politely at the people who insisted it was so great that he could make it and that the party wouldn't be the same without him. It was a remarkably popular opinion, albeit one he wasn't so sure of himself. He finally found his father and Revius at a corner booth, the former mercifully drinking nothing stronger than cider and the latter unmercifully up to his typical behavior. The barmaid, a pretty girl who looked familiar to Alucier, was lingering at the table long after she had served her customers.

Lucas, operating under the belief that it was not incredibly obvious to Alucier what was going on, rushed over to his son to prevent him from interrupting anything. "You remember Ro Eyler that lives across the river?" he asked, pointing to the barmaid. "That's his middle daughter."

Alucier did remember Ro Eyler – big man, raised livestock, once threatened to grind up his oldest daughter's suitor into feed for the cattle and later bragged about it at the hastily put together wedding between his oldest daughter and said suitor. "Uh, Dad…" Alucier began slowly.

"They're just having a friendly chat," Lucas insisted. He always did try to see the best in a situation.

Alucier's sense of optimism (or more aptly, pessimism) was more in line with his mother's. He walked over to the booth and sent the barmaid away with an order for a nice, sedate tea. Lucas followed after her, aware enough to figure out that now would be a good time for him to have some tea too.

Revius did not tell him how great it was that he was here and that the party would not be the same without him. He did criticize Alucier's lack of subtlety.

"She's not your type," Alucier explained to him. "She's a country girl, you're a city guy. Your father's a famous jeweler, her father's famous for being insanely protective of his daughters."

"How insane?" Revius asked, unimpressed. He wasn't afraid to take a little risk for a pretty reward.

"Have you ever dreamed of becoming a nutritional supplement for farm animals?"

Revius' risk assessment promptly turned to 'not worth it'. "Damn, you country people play rough. The worst I ever got back in Palas was a lecture about my preserving my reputation. Nobody fed anybody to anything."

"Yeah, well, feed's expensive. And preserving your reputation isn't much of a threat. That kind of thing is your reputation."

"Among my friends and the young women of Palas. Among everybody else, it's amazing how deaf and blind a Caeli uniform and a noble last name will make people."

"True," Alucier said. Awkwardly seizing a chance to segue into the topic he had promised Damise he would discuss with Revius, he continued, "And if you were the commander of the Caeli, you could probably get away with anything."

Revius picked up on the clumsy transition quickly. "That thought occurred to you why, exactly?"

Alucier shrugged. "No reason."

"You know, you were more subtle with the tea. Really, man, you're losing your touch."

"All right," Alucier conceded. "I was talking to Damise earlier and the topic of Lord Ramkin's replacement came up. I'm curious to know how interested you really are in the post."

"Because….?"

"Because I'm a naturally curious person."

"Or - and this is just a theory – it's because you've done the math like I have and figured out it's probably going to come down to you and me."

"Something like that," Alucier mumbled. It was nice that everything was now out in the open but he couldn't help but feel a bit miffed that Revius had apparently figured it all out before he had. The ability to correctly – and quickly – grasp a situation was a quality pretty high up on the good commander checklist.

"And you're worried that a fight between such worthy candidates could get mean and nasty and all our friends would get dragged into it," said Revius, spot on again.

"Something like that, too."

"Tell you what, I'll give you Seclas and Allen for Eries."

"Right, like that's a fair - ," Alucier started. Then he noticed the large smirk on his friend's face. "Will you be serious?"

"You first."

That smirk was daring Alucier to snap back that he had asked Revius to be serious first, but he didn't take the bait. "Fine. In all seriousness, I really want this post and I think I deserve this post."

"You really, really want it? Really, truly?"

Alucier's typical mix of sarcasm or insults was on the tip of his tongue. But he took a good look at Revius and decided that would be the wrong tack. Behind the smirk, behind the juvenile questions, he could see the answer Revius wanted to hear. "Really, truly," he said.

"Then you have my full support." Revius raised his glass to Alucier in a toast and began drinking, as if satisfied that everything that needed to be said had already been said.

Alucier, however, did not think that was the case. "That's it? Don't you want the post too?"

"Huh," Revius sighed. "I was expecting you to say 'thank you' or 'I appreciate that' or 'Wow, Revius, you're the bestest friend ever!'. Okay, maybe not the last one."

"I do appreciate it, but…"

"But, you feel like you need to piss and moan about it."

Protesting would have made him sound pissier and moanier, so Alucier forged ahead without comment. "Tell me you don't want this post."

"I do," he admitted. "Lord Revius definitely has a ring to it."

"So what makes you think Lord Maerzen sounds better?"

"Can I just make a list of reasons or do I have to answer in the form of an essay?"

"Hey, you made me say how I much I wanted it. Can't you be honest too?"

"Ha!" Revius snorted. "I give up my aspirations to give you my support and yet you believe I owe you?"

It was nervy of Alucier to ask, considering. And he did still need to thank Revius. But the part of him that thought he was so good at analyzing and understanding people couldn't figure out why Revius was dropping out of the running so readily. So he got nervier. "It doesn't have to be a long list."

"Okay, fine," Revius relented, but not without telling Alucier about how obnoxious he was being. "You've been a Caeli longer than I have. You probably would have been made captain of the guard instead of me if you hadn't already been assigned to Eries. And while I am the vastly superior swordsman in terms of raw talent, you think more strategically than I do. You actually like doing all the tedious paperwork and crap that comes along with command duties and you'd handle having to report to the king and the council much better than I could. And," he added in a quiet, rushed voice, "You really have been a good friend to me and I don't want anything to wreck that and there might, maybe, be a teeny, tiny insecure part of me that thinks you'll get the job anyway so why should I bother." With his voice restored to its normal volume and pace, he concluded, "But we're never going to speak about the last parts, are we?"

That was a good deal of information to process. Much to Revius' displeasure, Alucier's focus did go right to the last parts. "Thanks, Rev. It means a lot to me. You've been a good -- "

"You're speaking about it."

"Yeah, but – "

"No speaking. That's the deal."

"Come on, at least let me – "

"You can buy me food and alcohol. Then you have to shut up. You being all sincere and earnest makes me queasy."

"I can do that," Alucier agreed. Once he got the barmaid's attention, he shouted an order to her so loudly, everyone in the tavern turned to listen. "One bottle of your best vino for the bestest friend ever!"

Revius mouthing a threat to kill him just made him laugh harder.

0-0-0-0-0

At noon on the following day, on a sun-drenched pavilion outside the village church, the tip of a priest's staff and a kiss marked the addition of one new member to the Maerzen family. The wedding guests gave the bride and groom a standing ovation.

One guest tempered his applause with a tinge of pity. "One woman for the rest of his life," Revius sighed, "I guess he does deserve some kind of praise."

Damise responded by altering her clapping so that she was elbowing him in the side each time her hands came apart.

"I thought you hated marriage."

"I hate the idea of me being married. But we're talking about my baby sister and she's been dreaming of this day since she was six."

Lianora turned to shush them both. As soon as the applause died down, the priest was going to formally announce the newlyweds for the first time and she didn't want to miss it.

"Chastened by a younger sibling," Revius whispered, "that must hurt."

"You mean like this?" Damise said back, grinding the spiked heel of her shoe into Revius' boot.

He limped all the way on the trip back to the backyard of the Maerzen house for the reception.

Everyone else, however, was moving quickly to make any last minute preparations. Hillaine, still a bit misty eyed from the ceremony, gave final orders to a small army of cooks and waiters. Lucas and his son-in-laws were directing people to their seats. Alucier kept the village children entertained with stories of the Caeli and an impromptu display of swordsmanship. Revius shambled over to help.

"She stepped on your foot, you big baby," Alucier laughed at him. "You're not crippled."

"It hurts," Revius insisted. Though amazingly, once he started exchanging sword strokes with Alucier, he moved with his usual speed and grace. The children of Dunhaven and more than a few adults came over to watch. The Knights Caeli were famous all throughout Asturia, but outside of soldiers on battlefields and Palas nobles at parties, not many people actually ever got to see them in action.

Alucier dodged a thrust from Revius and spun around to get in close to him. The crowd let out appreciative 'oh's and 'ah's as his overskirt flared out dramatically from the movement. "Hey, hometown crowd," he said quietly to Revius, "I'm supposed to win."

"Then fight better, you big baby." To his credit, Revius let an opportunity to disarm his opponent pass by and kept his second, smaller sword sheathed. He did keep count of the number of times he could have drawn it to score a hit.

Once the carriage carrying Clea and her husband arrived, nobody cared about the sword fight anymore. The couple disembarked to another round of applause which didn't die down until they took their seats at the head of the table reserved for the wedding party. After that, there was a lot of food to be eaten and people cared even less about swordsmen, no matter what their pedigree.

The crowd was too dense for Alucier to navigate without a good amount of shoving, so he decided to hang back with Revius until it had thinned out to go join his family. He enjoyed watching his parents and sisters from a distance anyway. The way they smiled at each other, passing dishes back and forth and clinking their glasses together after exchanging congratulations – in these simple gestures were all the warm feelings of family that would always be here, in some way or another, for him to come home to even if he no longer called the farm his home. His father would still comment on his choice of livelihood, his mother would still pester him about being unmarried and his sisters would still tease him about any little thing they could think of. They were his family and that was what families did. And though he lived halfway across the country and only saw them a few times a year, he knew the second he walked through the front door, the comfort of that familiarity would be there. Maybe only his mother would be home to talk about so-and-so's lovely daughter or it would be Damise joking about his swanky life at the capital, but the presence of all eight of them wouldn't fade.

"It is nice, isn't it?" Revius asked in harmony with Alucier's reverie.

"Are you being serious for a change?"

"It can happen," he said defensively. "But, yeah, I was just thinking after all the crap of the last few months with Zaibach and the war, it's nice to know a whole bunch of people can get together and only care about having a good time with each other."

Alucier knew what he meant. The last wedding they had attended ended with half of Palas on fire and a good number of the guests dead. "Weddings are definitely better when they aren't crashed by flying fortresses," he agreed.

"Death from above does tend to cramp a party," Revius snorted. "But that's just part of the excitement of being a Caeli in the big city."

It was a joke, but as with a lot of humor, there was truth behind it. Princess Millerna's wedding had been an unqualified disaster. There had been moments in the church when Alucier had been guarding Eries and a sickly King Aston that he had wondered if he might have to give his life to protect his charges. There had been moments after everyone had gotten to safety when he had taken stark reflections on those that had died in the line of duty. Ultimately though, in the face of danger and its consequences, Alucier had known without any sort of doubts that he was where he needed to be. Moreover, it was where he wanted to be.

It wasn't long until all the guests had their plates full and had taken their seats to make their stomachs achieve that same condition. Alucier was finally able to reach to reach his family's table where a plate Hillaine had prepared for him waited. It was piled with extra servings of meat, her special potatoes and gravy, crowding out anything that would be considered healthy food. He had campaigned for a diet like this when he was younger and his mother had campaigned equally hard against it. His favorite argument was growing boys needed lots of food and he'd eat more of it if it was something he liked. Her favorite rebuttal was 'if a growing boy eats nothing but crap, what do you think he'll grow up to be?' He had been a smart aleck enough to notice she had called some of the food she served 'crap' but smart enough not to bring that to her attention and thus had spent his childhood eating well-balanced meals of proteins and vegetables that weren't swimming in pools of gravy or deep-fried in butter.

Her mother's sense must have somehow picked up on his thoughts, because before the first forkful of food could make it to his mouth, Hillaine leaned over to him and whispered, "It's a special day so don't get used to it."

Gradually, all meals were finished and the more boisterous part of the reception began. The musicians played a traditional ballad for Clea's first dance with her husband and then a more modern, fast-paced song for her second. It was back to tradition for the third – a dance between Clea and Lucas that caused a collective sigh among the female guests and some barely concealed sniffling from the fathers in the crowd.

After that, the guests were free to join in on the dancing. Alucier asserted his rights as a big brother to claim Clea's fourth dance, which had at least the females of his family sighing again.

Meanwhile, Revius took his pick of the young women who had practically formed a queue for a dance with him. He was reviewing his options for his next dance partner (and reflecting on how the clean air and hard work that came with country life seemed to be a good beauty regimen) when Damise cut in. "Alucier told me about Ro Eyler's daughter last night," she said. "I think you would benefit on some advice on your dance card."

"I'm not **that** bad," he whined. Still, he listened to what Damise told him, though he didn't actually put that knowledge to any use until many dances later.

It was long after nightfall when the last of the guests left. A few waiters remained on clean up duty and the musicians, too tired to play anything else, were down to their slowest numbers. Lucas was about to dismiss them but his wife had one more request. As it wasn't a famous song, she had to hum the melody to them until they caught on enough to be able to reproduce it. Her children recognized it immediately. No, it wasn't famous to the world at large, but it was infamous to them. The songwriters, after all, were their parents and the song itself, seven verses long, was all about them.

The biological members of the family groaned. Those who had gotten into the family by marriage laughed. They had heard about this song and now, after asking about it futilely for years, they were finally going to hear it.

"Come on," Hillaine urged her children. "You don't have to dance to it, just sing along except on the verse that's about you. So gather around, now."

Clea, buzzing with the good spirits of a newlywed, was the first to give in. Rinell quickly followed suit, saying this was probably going to be the last family wedding for Hillaine until her grandchildren came of age so they might as well humor her. "I said it, not Mom," she added with a sharp look at Damise and Alucier, though really, neither of them was planning on challenging her belief that this was the last shot for this generation. The other five children fell in line, knowing Rinell was right about humoring their mother because a humored Hillaine was decidedly nicer to deal with than a non-humored one. Gathered together in a circle near the musicians, they began to sing.

In truth, it wasn't necessarily a bad song. The tune was catchy. The lyrics, if one were feeling charitable, were heartfelt enough to excuse the doggerel. It was a good thing the lyrics were simple too, as they weren't being sung particularly loud or clear by the Maerzen children and there was a great deal of laughter threatening to drown the singers out. It made the song somewhat difficult to remember, but Revius did his best.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Lucas asked when it was over. No one said 'yes' but no one said 'no' either. "You all loved it when you were little," he continued, trying to persuade them to agree.

"I loved baking mud pies when I was little, Dad," Carlotte answered him. "Some things change."

"But you still like baking," Clea pointed out.

"There you go," Alucier, playing an impish peacekeeper, said, "It's the old saying, 'The more things change, the more they stay the same if you get really technical about it'."

Both sisters looked unsure as to whom he was siding with or making fun of so they returned to their still snickering husbands. Alucier, unfortunately, had Revius to return to. He wasn't laughing anymore, he was too busy humming a familiar tune and trying to piece together the verse about the sweet little son who thought chasing after sheep was so much fun.

Borrowing an old trick of Eries', Alucier kicked Revius in the shin. "Shut up."

"Hey! That's the same foot Damise stomped on. Are you trying to cripple me?"

"I would prefer to silence you."

"Never going to happen," Revius taunted him. "I have a feeling that I'll be so happy to be back home, I'll burst into song."

Alucier considered bribes he might offer to Revius – free rent, trading guard shifts at the palace, etc. – but decided it wasn't worth the effort. Yes, the song was embarrassing but everybody had embarrassing stuff from their childhoods. Maybe not full-length original compositions in their honor, but other stuff, like being called 'Dashums'. Meeting Revius' mother had been an enlightening event.

Revius hummed a few more bars before concluding, "Man, that song's too much. I can see why you moved all the way to Palas."

Though he wouldn't admit it even under the strain of torture, a little voice inside of Alucier answered back, "Nah, that's what made it so hard to leave."

0-0-0-0-0

The rest of Alucier's leave breezed by. He would have liked to have extended it by another week but Asturia was still recovering from the war, making it less than an ideal time to take an extended vacation. That, and Revius was threatening to become 'more annoying than I usually am' if he didn't get back to the city soon.

Damise took the carriage with them to the leviship yard. She wanted to see her brother off and loading the care package Hillaine had prepared for Alucier onto the ship was going to be a three person job. They could have wrangled some unsuspecting porters into hefting the oversized trunk full of leftovers, clothing, books, shadowgraphs and, quite possibly, the kitchen basin, but the tip they would have felt obligated to leave would have been worth a month's profits from the farm.

"I think she stuffed one of the Dempsey girls in this thing," Damise speculated as she struggled along with Alucier and Revius to get the trunk off the roof of the carriage.

"I wouldn't put it past her. She made such a big deal out of how many times I danced with them at the wedding."

They didn't set the trunk down so much as tried to guide its descent. It hit the ground with thud. None of them heard any complaints of rough handling coming from inside the truck, so it was declared Dempsey girl free. Alucier sort of wished someone had been inside. Then, they could have climbed out and helped with the heavy lifting.

The porters that did show up to help with their luggage took one look at the trunk, another look at the strained faces of the people carrying it and then looked at each other. The younger of the two declared, "It seems you've got a handle on that one. We'll get the rest of your things."

They had everything else off the carriage and on the leviship in record speed. The trio of Alucier, Damise and Revius followed behind them at a crawl. "The last time I came to Palas and Mom wanted me to bring you a bunch of stuff," Damise said, "I'm glad I told her no."

"Maybe if you had said yes," Revius complained, "We wouldn't have so much crap to carry now."

"Silly boy. You're at the farm for a week and you think you know how my mother works? I could go to Palas every month and she'd load me down with junk every time if I let her."

Alucier knew his sister was right. The spare bedroom Allen had once lived in was full of items Hillaine thought vitally necessary to his existence and that he felt too guilty to throw out. Sometimes people would come over to his apartment and wonder if he was running a pawn shop on the side.

"When are you planning to come to Palas next?" Alucier asked Damise, needing a distraction from how numb holding up his corner of the trunk was making his hands.

"Let's see. The last time I was there was after the dock fires but before the Royal Wedding from Hell. I should probably fit in a visit before the next disaster."

"Too bad the Mystic Moon girl went home," Revius said. "She could have predicted a date for you. Of course, her being in Palas was what caused everything to happen so now that she's gone, you probably have a pretty big window of opportunity to come."

"I don't know, Rev," Alucier added, "We're hosting the world conference next month to formally sign the peace treaty with Zaibach. All those leaders together in one place, something's bound to happen."

"All right, that sounds like some good impending doom! I'll see if I can get away from the farm sometime before then. I'll just need an excuse."

A sly smile spread across Revius' lips. "Just tell your parents a certain Egzardian princess is going to be at the conference and you're sure Alucier would be happy to introduce you to her."

"I'd be happy to? I don't think so."

Damise, however, thought it was a lovely idea. "If she gets along with you, then she and I ought to get along great too."

That's what his life was missing, his big sister and Marqesita gleefully exchanging notes. "She's a princess, she'll be very busy."

"Princess Eries was busy and you introduced me to her. Actually, if you insist on being stubborn, I could go through her. She did tell me to feel free to call on her any time I was in the city and I'm sure she'd have no problem setting up a meeting with your princess."

"You might have a problem setting up a meeting with Eries though," Revius warned her. "You'll have to go out to the Schezar estate. Kind of hard these days catching her anyplace else."

"Schezar? Your old roommate? The blond Caeli she has a thing for?"

"Had a thing for." Alucier was semi-sure past tense was the correct usage. "They're just friends now and I never told you anything about that in the first place. Remember?"

"Oh, right, top secret. But then how secret can it be if she's going out there all the time?"

"She's only visiting Allen's estate to help with Allen's sister," Revius said, too seriously.

"Right, gotcha. But isn't his sister missing?"

"She was missing," Alucier corrected again. "Now very much not missing." He thought but did not say aloud 'physically, at least'. He had nothing at all against Celena. He found her to be a sweet, rambunctious (if not rebellious) kid. The problem was that she was supposed to be a sixteen-year-old lady. But then, that's exactly why Eries had been spending so much time with the Schezar family. It wasn't as if there weren't some very nasty extenuating circumstances, either.

"So much happens with you guys," Damise sighed. "I wish I had that kind of excitement."

Revius muttered sarcastically about 'romantic melodrama and family crises, woo-hoo!' but Alucier kind of enjoyed that excitement himself. The romantic melodrama had reached a resolution for now, though he wouldn't put money on it staying that way. And the family crises were really only one crisis and it wasn't even a real crisis at that. That, however, could change too. Whatever happened, the next month was likely to be interesting at a minimum and for that, he could not complain. Boredom had been a prime motivating factor in leaving life on the farm.

The leviship pilot called for any last passengers to board. Under a time crunch, the porters that had avoided the trunk earlier now ran over to assist with its loading. Somehow, the five of them got it aboard. Revius claimed the leviship sank a little when the trunk was put into place, but only the porters laughed at the joke. Alucier and Damise were busy shaking their arms out.

"I believe I must bid you farewell, dearest brother," she said, "Unless I want to make an unplanned trip to Palas right now."

They hugged each other goodbye. Revius opened his arms for his hug and got punched in the chest. "No goodbye grope for you," Damise admonished. She did plant a very faint kiss on his cheek.

The pilot pointed out again it was time to go and she scurried off the leviship. Workers pulled up the planking the second she was back onto solid ground. Alucier lingered until the bay doors were closed and blocked his view of a waving Damise.

"Let's go find our seats," Revius said. Alucier followed him up the steps to the main cabin.

It was time to go home.

0-0-0-0-0

Author's Notes: Props to Ron and his Sakura for being betas on this chapter and for being very supportive and patient in general. Now let's all be impatient and pester them about their Dryden story! (Kidding! Sort of.) Thanks to all you readers for hanging in this long. This chapter of Alucier's life is over but there is more to come. Yep, I'm tweaking the outline for the third part of the trilogy. My goal is to start at the beginning of next year (which really isn't all that far away, really, I swear!) and get back to my old month at the most update schedule.


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